Music filled the air. It better, my parents decided there would be live music at their son's wedding, and since the bride's parents were both resting in a quiet cemetery in another town, someone was going have to pay for the elaborate goings on at my folks' place in upstate West Virginia.
A six-piece ensemble played, even the birds were singing in tune. You just couldn't have a more beautiful setting, or a better choreographed event for joining of the Clampets and the Drysdales.
No, don't be ridicules, we're not really the, Clampets and the Drysdales. We will be, in just about an hour, the Smith's. Well, we actually already are. My soon to be wife is Mary Jane Smith from Boston, and I am Lucas Roger Smith, from right in the middle the heaven on earth, the Canaan Valley of West Virginia. I graduated from WVU, where I met my future wife. I finished my degree as a Rhodes Scholar, at Cambridge University in the Great State of England, UK.
My father was second generation Scottish, so when I said I was going finish my schooling in the UK, he gave me a history lesson I promised I would never forget.
Wow, and I thought it was just the Irish that hated the English.
Anyway, back to the story. When I left for the UK, I proposed to my girlfriend, and I think she said yes. It was hard to tell with all the screaming and jumping around. All of her girlfriends wanting to tear her hand off to see the ring. I must admit, it was then, and still is, a very impressive piece of jewelry. The day I returned from a lifetime away from the love of my life, I knew I had not made a mistake. We slipped away to a cabin the woods behind my folks' house, and sucked, licked and fucked all night.
It was about noon when I was awakened by my fiancé sticking my cock down her throat. Man, what a way to say good morning. After some twisting and turning, I was face to face with one fine pussy. It was shaved clean as an egg, and tasted like honey, (from her douche, I was later informed).
The months went by, and the sex got better and better. Then one fine evening two nights before our wedding, I came home just as the sun was setting. There in my bed was my soon to be wife, with an electronic toy buzzing away. Two heartbeats later, I was hard as a rock. I don't mean hard, hard; I mean so hard I felt the blood leave my brain to fill my cock. One more second of the Mary Jane Smith show, and I would have passed out like a man hit in the head with a hammer.
She stopped.
"What the hell are you stopping for?"
She looked at me like her life was coming to an end. "Oh, baby I'm sorry, I just got so horny waiting for you, I thought I would speed things along."
My pants were around my knees, my cock was in my hand, and I demanded ... "Don't you dare stop. That is the sexiest thing I have ever seen."
I started to join her in bed, but I was all tangled up in clothes half on and half off.
Once the shoes were thrown into the corner, my pants slid under the bed, and shirt, tie, and jacket were somewhere in the room, I was caught up in a lip-lock with my fiancé. "Well, are you going to finish?"
The change in expression on her face was classic. She had no idea what to do. Then I heard the buzzing sound return. Her expression went from, What the fuck, to OH, FUCK!
With her free hand she grabbed my cock and squeezed it and then began stroking. Her eyes closed and I went to work on her breasts. First, kissing and then licking, then sucking and biting. She was completely enthralled in what was happening. Her attempt to hide her face in a pillow failed and the sound of her orgasm was like a choir singing the praises of the Queen of the night, Her Highness, the Queen of lighting bugs, (and batteries).
Her hands were covered with cum, after she cleaned her fingers with her mouth, she buried her face in my shoulder. "My God that was incredible." She whispered. "I don't ever remember anything feeling that wild."
I licked her juices from my hand and was soon licking up the remainder from between her legs. Minutes later I was pounding her pussy as hard as ever. "Ugh," was repeated so many times, "don't stop, I'm going to cum, oh God, fuck me,"
We changed positions so many times, but there always seem to be the drive and desire to continue. I vaguely heard a rapping on the door, but the person on the outside of the small cabin, knew without a doubt what was going on inside. They went away.
The day and the night before the ceremony we were kept busy with mundane crap that took us away from seeing each other or even getting a glimpse of our beloved.
The morning was quick. I took two pills the night before and slept like a mummy. It would have taken an army of girl scouts to drag my ass out of that bed.
If you're wondering why we weren't having the traditional parties, the night before the wedding. The answer was simple. All her friends were in New York, and all my Friends were in Cambridge. So that is where we got pissed and probably fucked. I remembered little about my party, and I expect Mary Jane had the same problem.
There was no way on earth I was going to ask about what happened with the hens, because then I would have to tell her how many times, I got my dick sucked at my drunk fest.
If we had waited till we got home, we could have invited the lightning- bugs and had a real swinging fun time. (Don't sell these lanterns of the night short, they keep kids busy for hours and hours).
When the guy at the front of the room, with all the fancy duds on said, "You may kiss the bride." We had a surprise planned for the gathered onlookers. May Jane stepped back and said in a very loud voice. "You're not going to kiss me with that filthy mouth." If you were looking for shocked faces, we had a lot of them to choose from.
I grabbed my new wife and said, "Come here woman!" the kiss lasted a lot longer than permissible. Mary Jane swooned, and everyone knew it was our little play. Laughter got louder when we did a 1950s jitterbug up the aisle.
Thanks to the lodging situation. The reception was not as long as my folks wanted. Mary Jane and I were off on a two-week trip to Tahiti, and the isles of the South Pacific.
We joined the 'at least' five-mile-high club somewhere over the pacific. Plus, we decided to try to get each other off manually under the cover of blankets that are never large enough. We did it, and with her head resting on mine, she whispered "We got to do that more often ... that was a big turn-on."
I agreed and went right off to sleep.
When we landed It was night after night, and day after day of some of the most outrageous sex anyone could want. We did things to each other that would make the guy who wrote the Kama Sutra blush.
But, sorry to admit, all good things must come to an end, and life waits for no one. Back on the plane, back to where people bumped into you just because they couldn't squeeze their fat asses through a crowded shop on every corner to get their Frappuccino. God, I was going to miss Oxford. Mary Jane had already informed me that she was going to be a stay-at-home housekeeper watcher.
Unfortunately, it didn't take long for us to fall into a routine that would bore the pants off the Pope. Mary Jane (now known as MJ) was running here and there doing absolutely nothing, or so I thought.
On one of those nights, a Friday, I was reading my book, and MJ was reading hers. I put my book down and ask. "Why aren't we fucking like we used to?"
She put her book down and responded with a very simple, "because you don't want to."
Under the purple down blanket, my hand touched flesh I hadn't touched in days. MJ began to grin, and it was on. We turned the lights out and began masturbating each other. It was thrilling. The kissing, the just holding each other. When the main event began, we were lost in a world of unconscious lust.
MJ opened the drawer to her bedside table and brought out the heavy stuff, the edibles.
"You don't qualify for a medical marijuana card." I announced as I put the first of two or three in my mouth (you have a tendency to lose track of your intake).
"Didn't you notice I'm keeping my Glaucoma under control?"
"You're sure a horny little bitch," I said it with love and my cock in her mouth and the juices from her pussy running into mine.
Oh, what a night. I know and I came very, very hard at least twice. I lost count of how many times MJ said she was Cumming.
At about two in the morning, we were still high and still feeling sexy. We laid side by side laughing at what had just occurred. A feeling of love and freedom seldom realized.
After a quiet moment, MJ laughed at her reminiscing. "Do you remember your bachelor party?"
"I remember a little bit." Trying to see if she was about to let out some great secret from her past.
"Now I know we weren't married yet, but did you get laid that night?" She paused just a second. "I mean you were in Oxford."
Not knowing where this was going, I thought, "what the fuck."
Evidently, I paused just long enough to get a grin from my wife. "No recriminations, right?"
"Right."
"I was pretty drunk, but yes, I was fucked a couple of times that night."
MJ just smiled. "I was too, and I got fucked a lot more than a couple times."
I was lying next to MJ with my hand propping up my head. My cock was squeezed between us. The second she said she got fucked a lot more than a couple times, my cock was hard as stone.
"Do you want me to take care of that, or do you want to hear more." With that she clutched my cock in her delicate fingers and began stroking. The sensation was incredible.
"The girls took me to a club that was rented for the evening. There was about fifteen of us, and after a few dancers came out on stage and did their thing, they started dancing with the girls. I was sitting on a throne, and all the male dancers came over to tease me first. Then they danced off to tease the others. After a while one of the dancers had a hard on and I was just drunk enough I couldn't resist. I had him in my mouth and was sucking his cock like crazy. I looked around the room, and it seemed everyone was occupied. A couple of the girls were eating out each other out. It was a regular orgy. Before the night was over, and I do mean all night, I think I fucked every one of the dancers at least twice."
When she said she was sucking this guy's cock, I emptied my balls for the third time that night. I had never done that before. It was like having the reverse of blue balls. I was sore. It was a good sore.
Both of us slept till nine-thirty. We didn't mention last night till seven o'clock as we ordered pizza and took the time to relax from the weekend chores.
"Are we going to talk about last night?" I wondered.
"What is there to talk about?"
"What do you mean? There's plenty to talk about." I responded.
